


Impossible

by Strega_VonDrachen



Series: Turnabout [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mutual Pining, So much angst, baby hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 18:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18429644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strega_VonDrachen/pseuds/Strega_VonDrachen
Summary: The long years have left a wide gap between Emma and Regina. Finally, their hearts are beginning to touch once more. And it's terrifying for them both.





	Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> @ShadowDianne encouraged me to be lethal with the levels of angst so, if you're going to blame anyone, be sure to sure to go yell at them, too. I claim no responsibility for any feelings caught, hurt, and/or destroyed at the reading of this fic. Enjoy!

“You said that you meant every word…” Regina husked. “I did, too.” 

Emma was tense and incredibly still, save for her racing heart. Regina’s was racing as well. Emma could feel her pulse thrumming against her face, her head buried in the crook of Regina’s neck. She whimpered as her core continued to clench, wrapped securely around Regina’s fingers and refusing to let go, her legs holding her close as she shivered in pleasure. Emma wanted this, needed this. Needed her. And it drove her to panic that she could not yet aloud say why. 

She was hardly breathing, not knowing how to respond. Her throat constricting. 

“Emma…” 

Regina kissed the side of her head, nuzzling her ear. 

“It’s all right, Emma.” 

The arm behind her head curled and fingers began to tenderly thread and stroke through Emma’s long blonde hair. She held Regina tighter and inhaled, filling her lungs with her scent. Eventually, as she slowly calmed, Emma relaxed and began to drift down from her rushing high. She sighed as Regina withdrew her hand but it did not go far, casting a small spell to clean them both as well as her own fingers, before starting to gently rub the inside of Emma’s thigh. Reassurance, once more. 

“You don’t have to say anything else.” 

“...But… I want to, Regina,” she whined. The sound was muffled, broken by uneven breath. Emma was truly trembling. 

“When you’re ready,” Regina said, again kissing her head. “I understand.” 

And Regina did, indeed. Emma, however, did not. She could not make any sense of her terrible hesitation. She had no reason to be so afraid. 

No one had ever loved her like Regina. 

“...Are you… scared, too?” 

“Absolutely shitless,” Regina admitted. 

Emma gave a soft laugh, and so did Regina. She looked up at her then, a smile upon her face, green eyes sparkling with tears and the ghosts of fear. “You’re braver than I am.” 

“Maybe,” Regina said, and Emma pursed her lips, unwilling to argue. “But, I have had longer to practice. Take your time, dear. We have lots of it.” Her hand left her thigh to drape over Emma’s side. She pressed their bodies close and kissed her lips, a promise lingering on her tongue.

Emma returned the kiss and slowly gave up her worry, losing herself to the demands of her heart. 

It had been two years since California. Two years since Emma had drunkenly divulged her most honest feelings for her best friend. Two years since she had, in every way but directly, said the words that still died within her mouth and allowed Regina to kiss her as she was now. Two years since their colliding magic had broken the laws of the world and sent the Savior running scared, back to her husband and the vows she had made with intent to keep. It had been two years… for Emma. 

But for Regina, it might as well have been two lifetimes. And her longing was evident, and insurmountable. 

Emma just wanted to cry for her resiliency, for whatever reasons why Regina would ever dare again to trust her with her heart. Her gratitude was overwhelming. She hardly felt worthy.

Breaking their kiss, touching their foreheads, Regina rubbed the small of Emma’s back and allowed them the time to catch their breath, resting securely in the silence. 

“Thank you,” Emma said after a while. “For everything.”

“To me, Emma… you are everything.” Regina licked her lips, uncertain if she had gone too far. “Thank you.” 

Emma’s returning smile told her she was fine. 

Regina sighed. “...Do you know what I think we need?” 

“...Coffee?” 

“Coffee.” 

Emma chuckled and pecked her cheek. “You brew it, then. You’re better at the magic than me.” 

“Than I,” Regina corrected, smirking. Their teasing banter arrived swiftly to shatter the tension, as efficient as ever. Their relief was equally apparent. 

“Whatever, I need to pee anyway.” Emma groaned as she rolled out of bed, stretching grandly as she stumbled naked to the en suite lavatory. Her body ached in the best ways, even as her spirit troubled. Both elated and somehow ashamed; it was a bizarre feeling. 

After appreciating the retreating sight of her bite-mark ridden body, Regina humming in approval of her own handiwork, she summoned the coffee, adding a touch a cinnamon the way Emma liked it, and left her cup on the small table beside the bed to await her return. Beyond the balcony, the sounds of workmen preparing for the evening’s events rose above the call of birds and the whistling of autumn wind. The sun was warm on her skin and she sipped in quiet contemplation, her heart daring to wish upon her future. For once. 

With her business done in the lavatory, Emma was washing her hands and lamenting the lack of modern day plumbing. If they were going to spend any more time in this castle together, Emma was going to have to insist Regina upgrade. Frankly, she was surprised she hadn’t by now. Of all the things that made Storybrooke a torment for the cursed residents, they all managed to still appreciate the much improved amenities. With respect to tradition, Emma supposed there was an allure to the ancient fairy tale charm, but this seemed unnecessary. 

She caught her reflection in the old gilded mirror, spotted with age, above the water basin. Her hair a sexed up muss, and a definite hickey on her neck, Emma couldn’t help but smirk. She liked how Regina made her look. She looked almost… happy. 

The wet pads of her fingers left streaks on the glass as she touched her reflection, water droplets rolling down the pane like tears on her face. Fear still stirred within her chest. 

“What is your problem, Swan…?” 

Her life could have gone so many other ways. The odds of this one being her reality felt impossible. The lack of control, or even the semblance, was sobering. 

She had already plenty of experience with altering the past to know better but, nevertheless, Emma’s mind wandered to the realm of what could otherwise have been. Toying with the ideas. Wandering, she went through a decade of old dreams and fabricated memories and wishful thinking, following the sense of her magic and her willing desire. The sights of her mind’s eye played out on the mirror before her, the sliver of her magic melting into the silver behind the glass. The spell had come unbidden, led by the instinct of her heart. 

Caught in between consciousness and imagination, for several long minutes, she sought herself. And everywhere she looked, she also found Regina. 

In another way, somewhere, she could have done better. She would have done better. So much better. And all of this would be… better. They would be better. 

Right?

“Emma…?” Regina called from the bedroom. “Did you fall in?” 

Gasping, breaking contact and crashing back to awareness, Emma stepped back and blinked. 

“...I’m fine,” she said. 

There was a long pause. “All right.” Regina sounded dubious. 

The last image, still fading slowly from the mirror, was the rainy hotel balcony, their profiles met in a kiss that never let go, the cloud of their magic entwining around their hands and waists, tying them together. 

Could she even possibly have known better then? She had been so lost. It was impossible to know how to be true when you hardly knew yourself. 

Her hand came to rest over her stomach, fingers aligning with stretch marks. 

Henry. And Hope. For all her regrets, and she had many, she would relive them all if it meant keeping her children. All that she was, whoever she was, believed that with every ounce of her being. Orphan, Sheriff, Savior, Dark One, Wife, Daughter, Mother, Princess, Lover, and her own worst enemy, all rolled into one; she would be it all again, without question, for their sake. For her own sake, she held nothing but doubt. Deserving was an attitude she generally reserved for others. But she had endured the men and many broken promises before. And the woman who was waiting ahead, who held her heart with such patience, was worth the fear of trying once more. 

“I love you,” Emma mouthed, practicing. She realized, again, that she was holding her breath. She exhaled and splashed some water on her face. She leaned over, dripping, resting on the basin’s edge. “I love you, Regina,” she whispered, the words sinking into the ripples and vanishing. 

Anxiety gripped at her, and she shut her eyes. 

“You’re where you need to be.... Just relax. Breathe.” 

The answers, the words, would come. She stilled herself, bracing against the threatening onslaught of emotion. 

“...You have time.” 

She’d figure this out. They both would. There was hope. 

Emma left the lavatory, face dry and without a trace of concern. 

“Coffee smells great.” 

Bathed in the sun’s glow, white bed sheets nested around her nude body, her hair still tousled but tucked back from her face, Regina’s beauty was breathtaking. And when she smiled, Emma almost skipped back to bed. 

“I hope it’s still hot,” she said, pulling back the cover for her to climb underneath. “You were in there for a while...” 

Emma retrieved her mug, nodding at her unspoken question of concern without looking at Regina, and took a long, glorious sip. 

“All right, then.” Regina kissed her shoulder and let the subject drop, satisfied at least for now that Emma wasn’t going to run. When they had started this, Regina had thought herself impervious, immune after years of forced indifference. She had been a fool to think so. 

Under the covers, Emma’s free hand found Regina’s and she laced her fingers through hers. Still, she did not meet her eyes, but the spark of her magic bled out and comforted Regina’s. 

“I’m…” Emma tried, voice sticking. She cleared her throat, looking out the balcony window. “Being happy is… sometimes still a new thing for me, you know?”

Regina’s laughter rumbled, rueful and far too keen. “For me too, dear.” She reached over and clinked her cup, smiling gently. “Trusting that it will stay is… indeed, scary.” 

Emma felt the incredible weight of her words and marveled at how easily Regina carried them. She turned her head to look at the woman, the former Evil Queen who had quietly and unknowingly captured her heart with a glance the moment they had met. Regina had grown so much, and yet, Emma realized, she had always been impossibly strong. Even before they had kissed, Regina had always been letting her go, free to live her life, wanting only for her happiness. Emma could not reconcile why that selflessness scared her so deeply. She ought to be happy. She ought to feel free. 

She felt only trapped. Cornered, and wanting to stay. A willing, smiling prisoner. 

She was doing it all over again, the savior’s dance, only this time she was being led in step to rhythm of her own heart. And her feet were proving clumsy, dancing in reverse. 

Her happy ending was sitting right beside her, an impossibly beautiful future… and Emma could only swallow her panic, tripping over herself. 

Time. Give it time. 

“When’s court today?” Emma said, shifting subjects to save face. Guilt roiled in her gut. 

If Regina was put off, she didn’t let it show. “Doors open to the public at half past noon.” She was going to be greeting the people, granting time to anyone who wanted an audience, before hosting the royal ball that evening. It had been Snow’s idea, one that many had supported. And, if the night’s previous diplomatic dinner had been any indication, the crowd was bound to be adoring. Regina was already dreading the embarrassment, hardly feeling worthy of the praise. “Will you be in attendance?” 

Emma’s admiration, however, she could not get enough of. 

“For as long as Hope will stay still and quiet, I’m there.” 

Regina snorted and so did Emma. Hope was just like her mother, ever restless. 

“Speaking of, did you find arrangements for her tonight?” Almost everyone was coming to the ball. Ruby and Dorothy were acting as emissaries for Oz, and both in sore need of a date night. Ashley was a part of the high table, as was Henry and Jacinda and, of course, Emma’s parents. Zelena had laughed in her face, Alice and Robin had been impossible to hunt down, and even Granny had refused to give up her night at the party. Getting her to sit out the banquet dinner and look after Hope instead had been tricky enough. 

“Actually, yeah. Henry. I mean, um, the new Sir Henry… he said he’d look after her.” Her second son from the wish realm was dignified and, though there was a great fondness between them, he often requested his title be used. Not to remain distant but as a distinction, not wanting to be seen as the “other” Henry. 

Regina lifted her eyebrows. “So, he isn’t coming?” 

“Dancing isn’t really his thing, he said. It’s his way of contribution.” Emma shrugged. The two of them had recently become close but the relationship he shared with Regina was something she could only start to comprehend. They had been through so much more. “A few hours with his half sister isn’t asking much, and he seemed happy to do it.” Emma suspected that Sir Henry, like Granny, could sense her secrets but he, too, had decently permitted her to keep their privacy. Emma wondered how long that would last and the perceived threat to her precious time made her stomach twist. “He did promise to be at court today, though.” 

Regina smiled. “That will do.” 

They both sipped at their coffee. The next obvious question hung dangling before them like a pendulum, swinging ever closer. Emma was the one, oddly, bold enough to ask. 

“So, will you want to… you know, when you’re not busy hosting… want to dance? With me?” 

“You know I’m not a good dancer,” Regina said and squeezed her hand. “But if you’re willing to risk your toes… of course I will.” She knew it wasn’t her toes Emma feared getting hurt. The gesture would be public, even under the veneer of formal custom and friendship. Emma was making an effort, and it warmed Regina’s heart tremendously. She brought up their joined hands and kissed her fingers, one at a time. “It would be my honor.” 

Emma stared at her, heartbeat thudding in her ears. She set her coffee down on the table beside her and took hold of their hands. “Regina…” she said, turning her body directly, courage arriving from seemingly nowhere. “You are worth everything.” She inhaled. “I lo--” 

A frantic knocking on the bedroom door made Emma yelp. “Aww-- WHAT!?”

Unbelievable. Just impossible timing. 

They dropped their hands as Emma’s went up to hide her face, suddenly lurid with humiliation. 

The unfortunate messenger on the other side of the door hesitated before meekly replying, “Begging your pardon, Your Majesty… There’s a Miss Ruby Lucas here demanding an audience. She says it’s urgent.” 

Regina had shut her eyes, quelling her rage. They never could seem to catch a break. Her heart went out in sympathy for poor Emma and her miserable luck. She massaged her shoulder. “Tell Miss Lucas it will have to wait.” 

A pause, and then, “...It’s about Hope Swan.” 

Both women felt their hearts stop. Emma looked up from behind her hands, her eyes filling terror. Regina’s looked the same. 

“Send her in immediately,” she called and launched out of bed. 

“What-- Regina, no--” Emma scrambled, looking for her discarded clothes. 

Regina, remembering herself a witch, magicked herself dressed an instant and was already hurrying to the door, mayoral heels clicking loudly across the flagstone. 

“Fuck it--” Emma growled, unable to focus enough for her magic to do the same, ran, and tossed herself to the stone wall behind the door just as it opened. 

“What’s happened?” Regina’s voice was unnervingly calm, though her nails dug into the wood of the door. Emma felt sweat running down her back, suddenly cold with fear as she had never known it. 

“Have you seen Emma?” 

“No,” she lied. “What’s wrong with Hope?” 

“Nothing…” Ruby was hedging, and it made Emma want to scream. “But Granny has been trying to find Emma for hours.” 

A flick of her wrist and Emma’s phone was in her hand. Seven missed calls, the first one at two in the morning, and one text message. “Emma. Your daughter might very well have magic.” 

“Fuck…” Emma breathed.

One of Ruby’s ears twitched. Regina saw. “You said this was urgent. What. Happened.”

“Sorry. I just-- I don’t want to--” 

“Spit it out!” Regina had no patience left to spare. 

“Hope escaped her crib. Granny thinks she used magic.” There was more to it, Regina could tell, but Ruby was folding her arms across her chest, clearly done sharing. Emma, in that moment, had dressed and was gone in the next. The whiff of ozone and pulse of power was all Regina needed to know that she had rushed off to her daughter, back to Granny’s. 

Ruby, too, felt the wave and her eyes narrowed. “You… sure you haven’t seen her?” 

Regina’s eyes narrowed more. “Positive.” 

“Right. Well. If you see her.” 

“I’ll let her know.” 

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, eyes darting over her shoulder. Two cups of coffee rested by a well strewn bed. And a large purple dildo still lingered on the floor. It didn’t take a wolf’s nose to put the puzzle together. “Yeah, cool. Catch you later, Regina.” She turned slowly, trying not to look obvious, and left.

“Thank you, Miss Lucas,” she grit out and shut the door, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against it. “Fuck.” Her stomach had bound itself in knots and her mind was spinning, unsure of what next to do. 

She took the guidance of her first instinct and, after giving Emma a fair enough head start, took herself to the old woman’s cottage. 

The den was surprisingly calm, even quiet, when she arrived in a cloud of purple. Granny and Emma stood by the window, by the playpen where Hope sat chewing on a toy block. They turned immediately at her appearance. “Regina,” Emma said, eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” At her feet, perfectly content and gurgling, and draped in an oversized red cape, Hope laughed at the sudden sight of her and tried to stand, only to step on the cape and fall back down. Granny snorted and mumbled something about getting too old for this and found something to do elsewhere, leaving them to it but never going further than the kitchen. 

Emma was very still once more, like a scared deer wanting to seem brave. 

Regina moved slowly. “I heard… there might be another witch among us? Thought I could help.”

“It’s really nothing,” Emma said, her face an utter lie. She was mortified. So much had gone so wrong so fast. “She just… she got out of her crib last night. That’s all.” 

Regina lifted her brow. “Is… Hope walking yet?” She hadn’t seen Emma’s daughter in more than a week, too busy with the weekend’s preparations to for any sort of liaison. But Emma would have surely told her if she was. Surely.

“Not really. But Hope’s really strong.”

“Yes, I know.” Regina was gentle as she took Emma’s hand, and yet she flinched. Regina bit her lip, frowning, and let go. Across the room, she made eye contact with Granny who resumed busily dusting her bookcase. “Your savior magic is really strong, too.” 

Emma groaned, not wanting to deal with this at all. Hope laughed loudly, shrill, seeking attention as she finally pulled herself to her feet, bouncing her knees. The large hood had fallen over her face. 

“So, not yet walking, but already scaling fences, huh?” Regina said, trying for a smile. She turned to inspect the baby. 

“Regina-- she’s--” 

“Or are we poofing in our sleep, little one?” Her fingers undid the clasps of the hood and pulled it from her.

Emma sucked in a breath. 

Regina blinked. 

Hope’s blue eyes, her dark ocean blue eyes, were now brown. Almost black. 

“That’s… unusual.” 

“I mean, is it?” Emma said, unnerved. “Babies eyes… they can change. You… you know that, Regina.” Henry had been born with blue eyes, too. 

“She’s over a year old, Emma.” And the change was far too abrupt.

“It’s not totally impossible,” Granny called over and they both cast her a glare scathing enough for her to truly leave. “Though, I should mention, I woke up with her sitting in my bed.” 

Hands rubbing at her face, trapped in torment, Emma stormed after her and shut the door. She banged her head against it, then her fist. “Great. Just great.” 

Regina was picking up Hope. “But, Emma, this is great. Your daughter has magic.” 

“Yeah, it’s fantastic.” She turned, sliding down the door to sit on her heels. “Because I have so much experience raising magical children.” Regina chuckled. It annoyed Emma. “What, do you?”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” 

The silence that fell was deafening. Regina froze. Emma froze. Time itself froze.

Hope started to kick, fussing in Regina’s arms. 

Slowly, Regina looked back to the baby. 

“Regina-- no. No way.” 

“But… Emma…” She was staring at Hope’s eyes, her own quickly dilating in shock. 

In recognition. 

Hope squealed, squirming, demanding she be put down. Regina hesitantly obeyed, placing her on her feet, unable to look away. There was a sudden flash of purple behind Hope’s irises and Regina gasped, mouth falling open as she clutched at the playpen railing behind her. 

Hope turned to Emma, and Hope began to walk. 

Emma held out her hands, going forward to her knees. “Oh… Oh, god…” Hope was smiling, toddling and clearing the distance, her dark eyes crinkled with mirth. “That’s it, baby, you can do it! Come to Mommy!” 

Regina bit back a sob. 

Hope laughed and collapsed into Emma arms, tugging on her hair. “Oh, Hope, you did it! You did--” Like a shattering glass, like a lightning strike, like a gunshot, Emma’s reality snapped and exploded in a million pieces. “Hope… You-- you--” 

She took hold of her little hands, her larger ones shaking. She looked into her eyes. She refused to look anywhere else.

“Emma…” Regina’s voice quavered. 

“You walked,” Emma repeated quietly. Her lips felt numb. All of her felt suddenly numb. 

She was displaced, losing all sense of self, knowing only immediate desire and instinct. Both of which were warring. She was terrified. And the deep brown, confused eyes looking back at her began to fill with tears. Hope started to cry and, across the room, so did Regina. 

“I can’t… wait to tell everyone, “ she said, stroking her thin blonde hair. “You walked today.” 

“But, Emma, her eyes!” 

“I know, I know, they… they look just like my mother’s, don’t they?” 

Snow’s eyes were hazel. These were unmistakably another’s. 

Regina tried to step forward, her grip yet unrelenting on the railing keeping herself upright. “Emma…” She was breathless. 

But Emma was already standing, taking Hope up in her arms. 

“Emma, don’t… please.” Regina never begged. “Please, Emma.”

“I’ll… we’ll…..” Emma’s gaze was lost to an unknown space, her daughter’s crying rising in pitch. All color had left her face, and a vein in her neck was throbbing. “We need to go home, now.” 

“Emma, please, don’t run. Please.” Regina was rooted to the spot, her dissolving will still demanding self control even as her magic grew impossible to contain. She had never so intensely wanted anything in her life, half so instantly. Purple glowed at her fingertips as they flexed, reaching for them. 

Silver, dirty white mist swirled at Emma’s feet. “I need time...” 

“Emma, wait--” 

But she was gone, fled, taking Hope and the red cape with her. The void of her magic, of her emotion, was palpable.

It took her several slow, shuddering breaths, and tears leaking along her cheeks, before Regina could move again. She could hear Granny approaching the door. She clenched her jaw and vanished herself away, back home to the mansion at Mifflin Street. 

Emma had said they needed to go home. 

Standing in the foyer, sensing out with her fading magic, she knew the house was empty. 

Regina sank slowly to her knees and silently cried, her body shaking, hands over her mouth and her eyes shut tight. 

It was impossible. 

And yet she believed. She knew it was true. She had felt it vibrate the fibers of her heartstrings, hearing the echo in the very essence of her magic. 

Hope was theirs.

She had a daughter.

And Emma, thanks to Regina… 

…had full legal custody. 

Her breath rattled as she inhaled. 

She screamed. And she wept for hours.

Somehow, Regina still made it to court, which was nothing short of a miracle. 

Emma was never present. And Regina did not seek her after. 

Emma needed time. She had all but demanded it. And Regina could not bring herself to again demand otherwise. She carried on, hiding behind an impenetrable mask, her heart shattered and held together only by hope.

This was impossible. But no one had ever said the magic of true love would be predictable.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, Dianne.  
> Save us all.


End file.
